The year started with a Monday; so does every week (Week 1: Transitions and Intentions)

monday, january one

“When the New Year starts on a Monday, are we doomed to a year of Mondays? Not an auspicious omen.”

The sentiment is not my own—it comes from the mouth of an acquaintance via an Internet meme.

I shrug.

My world does not divide into weekdays and weekends. And I like Mondays. Actually, I did just find out the Y cancelled my Essentrics class, which was one of my favourite things about Mondays.

Still.

Mondays are fresh. New. A new page in a new notebook. You know?

I like beginnings.

Revolutionary thought: I like Mondays.

Revolutionary suggestion: you could like Mondays too.

* * *

An intimate moment from my first Monday of 2018: I’m working with the same sankalpa I set myself in the fall of 2017 when I was drowing in too much work. It goes like this:

I ask for what I need and it comes to me.

I accept it with reverence and gratitude.

At the end of my meditation on the first Monday of 2018, I ask myself exactly what it is that I’m asking for. What do I need?

I ask for the courage to be myself.

Oh. Interesting. Now, that is interesting…

* * *

tuesday, january two

From my process journal:

It was an emotionally HARD day

but I WORKED and made FOOD;

also smoked a CIGAR.

* * *

wednesday, january 3

I am hyper-productive and yet putting the breaks on myself the entire day. Watching the pulse and the rhythm of the day. What’s driving it? What’s driving me?

In the morning, I create an amazing short story. By noon, I decide to break a heart (and also, decide that the morning’s amazing story is shit; I should trash it—but I don’t).

A quote from Jeanette Winterson:

True art when it happens to us challenges the ‘I’ that we are.

* * *

thursday, january 4

In the morning, I am the consummate professional and I sit down to write and finish and FILE a story without whining AT ALL about how much I don’t want to get it done. Watch. Me. Type.

Fuck. Done. Filed.

And it’s not even 10 am yet.

I ROCK MY WORLD.

I go to the Y for the first time since before my grandfather’s funeral.

Text Sean after:

Can’t feel my arms. Or legs. Or butt.

Don’t text:

Please come to the Y and carry me home.

But I think about it.

* * *

I ask for what I need and it comes to me.

I accept it with reverence and gratitude.

So, a sankalpa is basically an affirmation, except, you know, cooler cause it has a Sanskrit name.

(Note use of humour as a safety-distancing device—this isn’t really important to me because I can laugh at it—let me mock myself before you mock me.)

It’s usually translated as “resolve.” Rod Stryker, the author The Four Desires who introduces me to sankalpa defines kalpa as vow or “the rule to be followed above all other rules” and san as a connection with the highest truth.

I don’t know about the highest truth part. Or the rule part.

But resolve works. Resolve works.

Anyway. I’m practicing:

I ask for what I need and it comes to me.

I accept it with reverence and gratitude.

because I suck at asking for what I need. And often, when it does come to me… I fight it. Or accept it ungraciously, ungratefully. Resentful that I need your help.

I should be able to do everything alone, don’t you know.

* * *

Sean is doing this month’s high school math with Cinder.

I am so grateful.

I didn’t even have to ask.

* * *

friday, january five

From the process journal:

I have not done a lot of work today but I am very happy.

* * *

saturday, january six

My Unicorn turns 13 today. 13!

We celebrate all day.

For breakfast, she eats the tiramisu Sean and Cinder made for her last night. Ender’s present to her is all the candy left-over from his Advent calendar.

At some point I do laundry.

At dinner, we find out my mother, the hardcore ER nurse… doesn’t know what a marijuana leaf looks like.

Life is good.

* * *

sunday, january seven

I have so much to do today. Tomorrow. This week.

This year.

I look back at the first week of the year and… reflect? Evaluate? Something like that—I’m searching. For patterns, good and bad.

I don’ t make resolutions, you know. But I do make… commitments. There’s a difference. Right?

I won’t tell you what my commitments for 2018 are. Apparently stating one’s goals does not help one meet them.

It’s true; I read about it on the Internet. (In this article–Hush And Just Do It—parenthetically, I’m really glad the author isn’t my grandmother, and if you would like to talk to me about your hopes and dreams, intentions, darling—please do it. You know how you kill a relationship with a child, a lover, a friend? Say “I don’t want to hear about it until you fulfill it” when they start telling you about their dreams. Fuck. You know what? Don’t read the article. Apparently, I’m just sharing it with you because it ticked me off.)

I’m long-handing this post in the morning—I will type it up and post it at night, I decide, when I’m fried and tired of my other work. I have a 12,000 word anthology to final-proof today—once, twice… three times? A shitload of laundry to fold. A kitchen to excavate. A unicorn to tame, a vampire bat to chase outside, a manticore to charm…

But I also want to chill and read a book. Have a bath. Cook something good. Go for a walk in the sun.

Patterns. Rhythms.

* * *

I do stare at that post-script to my sankalpa from the first Monday of the year.

I ask for the courage to be myself.

Why, really, that? Now?

I kind thought I had THAT part of my self-drama pretty much worked out.

But no. Apparently, not yet.

I ask for the courage to be myself.

Well. Let’s see how all that goes next week.

xoxo

“Jane”

49 thoughts on “The year started with a Monday; so does every week (Week 1: Transitions and Intentions)

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  2. Pingback: A moody story (Week 3: Ebb and Flow) | Nothing By The Book

  3. Pingback: Do it full out (Week 4: Passions and Outcomes) | Nothing By The Book

  4. Pingback: The Buddha was a psychopath and other heresies (Week 5: No Cohesion) | Nothing By The Book

  5. Pingback: A good week (Week 6: Execute, Regroup) | Nothing By The Book

  6. Pingback: Killing it (Week 7: Exhaustion and Adrenaline) | Nothing By The Book

  7. Pingback: Tired, petty, tired, unimportant (Week 8: Disappointment and Perseverance) | Nothing By The Book

  8. Pingback: Professionals do it like this: [insert key scene here] (Week 9: Battle, Fatigue, Reward) | Nothing By The Book

  9. Pingback: Reading Nabokov, crying, whining, regrouping (Week 10: Tears and Dreams) | Nothing By The Book

  10. Pingback: Shake the Disease (Week 11: Sickness and Health… well, mostly sickness) | Nothing By The Book

  11. Pingback: Cremation, not embalming, but I think I might live after all (Week 12: Angst and Gratitude) | Nothing By The Book

  12. Pingback: Let’s pretend it all does have meaning (Week 13: Convalescence and Rebirth) | Nothing By The Book

  13. Pingback: The cage is will, the lock is discipline (Week 14: Up and Down) | Nothing By The Book

  14. Pingback: My negotiated self thinks you don’t exist–wanna make something of it? (Week 15: Priorities and Opportunity) | Nothing By The Book

  15. Pingback: An introvert’s submission + radical prioritization in action, also pouting (Week 16: Ruthless and Weepy) | Nothing By The Book

  16. Pingback: It’s about a radical, sustainable rhythm (Week 17: Sprinting and Napping) | Nothing By The Book

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  18. Pingback: You probably shouldn’t call your teacher bad names, but sometimes, your mother must (Week 19: Excitement and Exhaustion) | Nothing By The Book

  19. Pingback: Tell me I’m beautiful and feed me cherries (Week 20: Excitement and Exhaustion) | Nothing By The Book

  20. Pingback: A very short post about miracles, censorship, change: Week 21 (Transitions and Celebrations) | Nothing By The Book

  21. Pingback: Time flies, and so does butter (Week 22: Remembering and forgetting) | Nothing By The Book

  22. Pingback: I love you, I want you, I need you, I can’t find you (Week 23: Work and Rest) | Nothing By The Book

  23. Pingback: You don’t understand—you can’t treat my father’s daughter this way (Week 24: Fathers and Daughters) | Nothing By The Book

  24. Pingback: The summer was… SULTRY (Week 25: Gratitude And Collapse) | Nothing By The Book

  25. Pingback: The summer was… SULTRY (Week 25: Gratitude And Collapse) | Nothing By The Book

  26. Pingback: It’s like rest but not really (Week 26: Meandering And Reflection) | Nothing By The Book

  27. Pingback: It’s the wrong question (Week 27: Success and Failure) | Nothing By The Book

  28. Pingback: On not meditating but meditating anyway, and a cameo from John Keats (Week 28: Busy and Resting) | Nothing By The Book

  29. Pingback: Hot, cold, self-indulgent as fuck (Week 29: Fire and Ice) | Nothing By The Book

  30. Pingback: In which our heroine hides under a table (Week 30: Tears and Chocolate) | Nothing By The Book

  31. Pingback: Deadlines and little lies make the world go round (Week 31: Honesty and Compassion) | Nothing By The Book

  32. Pingback: That’s not the way the pope would put it, but… (Week 32: Purpose and Miracles) | Nothing By The Book

  33. Pingback: And before you know it, it’s over (Week 33: Fast and Slow) | Nothing By The Book

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  35. Pingback: Depression is a narcissistic disease, fentanyl is dangerous, and knowledge is power, sort of (Week 35: Introspection and Awareness) | Nothing By The Book

  36. Pingback: I’m not gonna tell you (Week 36: Smoke and Mirrors) | Nothing By The Book

  37. Pingback: Slightly irritable and yet kinda happy (Week 37: Self-Improvement and Self-Indulgence) | Nothing By The Book

  38. Pingback: It’s not procrastination, it’s process (Week 38: Back and Forth) | Nothing By The Book

  39. Pingback: Pavlov’s experiments, 21st century style (Week 39: Connectivity and Solitude) | Nothing By The Book

  40. Pingback: The last thing I remember… (Week 40: Truth and um, Not Really) | Nothing By The Book

  41. Pingback: All of life’s a (larval) stage (Week 41: Stagnation and Transformation) | Nothing By The Book

  42. Pingback: Damn you, Robert Frost (Week 42: Angst and more Angst) | Nothing By The Book

  43. Pingback: Speaking of conflict avoidance… (Week 43: Fight of Flight) | Nothing By The Book

  44. Pingback: Halloween, Samhain, All Saints Day, Day of The Dead, Candy (Week 44: Neither Here Nor There) | Nothing By The Book

  45. Pingback: Again with the silver-tongued Persians, and other stories (Week 45: Silence and language) | Nothing By The Book

  46. Pingback: War, Famine, Pestilence, Mornings (Week 46: Mornings and the Apocalypse) | Nothing By The Book

  47. Pingback: Time flies but the Christmas tree is up (Week 47: Status quo and Change) | Nothing By The Book

  48. Pingback: I didn’t kill anyone–it just smells like it (Week 48: Guilt & Poison) | Nothing By The Book

  49. Pingback: You have a bad memory, while I want to rest on a flower (Week 49: Mothers and Caterpillars) | Nothing By The Book

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